Domestic Factors
by Joycelyn Solo
Summary: Sequel to The Cultural Addition. The Tucker Twins are seven years old and full of questions; will their family find answers or more mystery?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_Star Trek: Enterprise_ and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I guess Chip and T'Mir could arguably belong to me, but, since their parents don't, I won't quibble over details. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Action

NOTE: I am still looking for a beta reader and idea bouncer-offer. Please send me a PM if interested. Thank you.

**Chapter One - Only in dreams**

There was little T'Pol could not explain with logic but even she was hard-pressed not to admit the scene was bizarre.

She was in her daughter's room, seated at the small table where T'Mir hosted formal tea ceremonies for the various dolls and stuffed animals her doting grandparents had showered her with.

Her young daughter was not in the room and T'Pol's only company was a plush rabbit, the oversized teddy bear she'd been given on the day of T'Mir and her brother's birth and a large doll fashioned in the likeness of Captain Jonathon Archer.

Her position and company wasn't what made the scene unusual. T'Pol often joined her daughter as she demonstrated the proper way to brew and present the traditional tea to her guests; the rabbit, bear and Captain Archer doll regulars at the table.

What was unusual was the earnest conversation T'Pol was having with the rabbit, with whom she'd never spoken more than a few words before and then only to appease her sometimes fanciful child.

"Your tea is cold, T'Pol," the rabbit was saying.

"The tea itself isn't important," T'Pol informed the rabbit, sipping at the tepid tea. "T'Mir is learning about tradition."

"And who teaches her about tradition? You are no longer Vulcan."

"I am Vulcan," T'Pol protested, her voice colder than the tea at the rabbit's impertinence.

"Your children are not Vulcan," the rabbit continued, ignoring her. "Nor are your children Human."

As he continued, the scene changed from her daughter's pale-walled bedroom to a humid forest she vaguely remembered. Gone were the table, stuffed bear and Archer doll. Sounds and smells assaulted her senses and T'Pol tried desperately to place her surroundings. She should know. She had to know. It was so important…

The rabbit turned, a plush arm stretched toward her as he suddenly became as tall — if not taller — than her.

"Your children are ours and we need them. You must return. You must remember."

* * *

Her eyes snapping open, it took T'Pol a moment to allow her vision to adjust to the pale moonlight that blanketed the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, the crisp breeze of the ocean greeted her lungs — Earth's ocean, not the tangy scent of an alien world she barely remembered — and even then only in dreams.

_Dreams._

Less than a decade before, dreaming had been a foreign concept to T'Pol. Raised to follow a path of logic, she was trained to clear her mind through meditation before allowing her body its evening rest.

As a proper Vulcan should.

But it had been a long time since T'Pol had been a proper Vulcan.

An outcast of her people, the former sub-commander of the Vulcan High Command found it difficult to maintain the disciplines she had been taught since childhood. Now, in her life surrounded by Humans, her daily meditations had been relegated to a handful of times per week; nothing compared to the strict routines she had once held herself to.

Though there were times she may have wished for the structure of her former life, T'Pol would never give up the joy she had found in her new one. And, yes, joy was indeed what she had found. As a Vulcan, she had been taught to forsake emotion in favor of logic, to maintain the highest level of control of herself, her thoughts and her actions at all times.

But, as a wife and mother, she reveled in the treasures of her everyday life.

She turned onto her side and studied the man with whom she shared that life, who made it possible.

For seven years, he had shared her bed and T'Pol never tired of his reassuring presence as she slept. At the moment, his face was relaxed, a soft whistle passing his lips. His hair, an interesting blend of sun-tinted blond and dark undertones had only recently begun to show the first touches of grey.

She allowed her fingers to caress a stray lock of hair, causing her husband to sigh softly as he opened his eyes, their depths blue as the sea outside their bedroom window.

"Another nightmare?" he murmured, capturing her hand in his and bringing it to lay over his chest.

She felt the steady beat of his heart beneath their joined fingers. "Vulcans do not have nightmares."

Trip Tucker smiled lazily, his eyes opening slowly to regard her. "You say that every time." He sat up, softly pulling her with him so that she rested against his bare chest. Dropping a light kiss to the top of her head, he asked, "You still don't remember what they're about?"

T'Pol shook her head, a shiver passing through her. Trip pulled her closer and wrapped the blanket around them, offering both emotional support and physical comfort. T'Pol had lived with Humans for more than ten years and she was still chilled more often than not. Of course, Trip mused, his wife _had_ been raised on a desert world - one she hadn't seen in years.

Though their marriage still earned them curious - and, occasionally, hostile – reactions on Earth, they were nothing compared to being ostracized by T'Pol's own people.

It angered Trip that the same Vulcans who had chastised Humans for making rash judgments and prejudices had so quickly judged and dismissed T'Pol's choices. T'Pol had always been proud of her culture - he knew the rejection hurt her deeply.

But he also knew, more than her own pain, was the regret their children were missing half of their heritage. The twins would likely never be accepted by their pointy-eared relations.

He didn't think the kids hurt for family, though. His own parents doted on them something fierce, as did his sister's and brother's families.

T'Pol's parents did make some effort, at least. Soval, though he had done little to support his daughter's decision - and, in fact, had tried on multiple occasions to change her mind - played a much larger role in his grandchildren's lives than Trip would have ever expected.

Thinking of his father-in-law, and sensing that T'Pol wasn't ready to talk about her nightmare, he asked instead, "You gonna talk to Soval before we leave?"

"He will not return to the consulate until the end of the week." T'Pol ran her fingers lightly over the hair of her husband's arm. "He has asked that the twins visit him when we return." Though she did not mention it, Trip knew T'Pol was anxious to see if her father would bring any news from her mother. T'Les had been known to record messages and include gifts for the twins - whom she hadn't seen since their birth.

"Maybe he'll keep them long enough for us to sneak away for a couple of days."

Though the idea held appeal, T'Pol warned him, "I doubt the Ambassador would approve of your intentions for such an endeavor."

"He doesn't need to know the illicit details." Trip shrugged, hugging T'Pol to him as he relaxed against the pillows. "Besides, it's been a while since we got away. Maybe, after the reunion, we can head up to Carbon Creek."

T'Pol listened to the soothing voice of her husband as he listed all the things they could do in the mountainous Pennsylvania region — things they never quite got around to the first or second time they'd visited. It was another of the unexpected delights of being married to her very Human mate; she couldn't imagine going more than a week without engaging in intimacies with Trip, let alone seven years — something she would have experienced as a proper Vulcan wife.

She smiled as Trip's low cadence lulled her back to sleep. There had been many twists in their journey together. She wondered what their future held.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **_Star Trek: Enterprise_ and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I guess Chip and T'Mir could arguably belong to me, but, since their parents don't, I won't quibble over details. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.

**Rating: **PG-13

**Genre: **Trip/T'Pol Romance; Action

NOTE: I am still looking for a beta reader and idea bouncer-offer. Please send me a PM if interested. Thank you.

**Chapter Two — Clues Without Puzzles**

Having found a few more hours' rest in her husband's arms, T'Pol was up before the sun and downstairs deep in meditation by the time Trip roused himself to the sound of the alarm.

He tossed off the covers and reached for the t-shirt he discarded the previous night, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Allowing himself a moment of vanity, he flexed briefly and smiled. Being married to T'Pol, who aged much more slowly than her Human counterpart, gave him addiitonal incentive not to "let himself go" as some Earth-bound officers sometimes did. He may not be at the peak of physical fitness as he'd been back on _Enterprise_ but he had to admit he still looked pretty darn good.

He donned his t-shirt and made the bed, one of his usual chores since he was the last one out it, and walked as quietly down the hall as he could in hopes of not waking either of the kids. It was still early and they had a big day ahead of them — and he knew neither one had gone to sleep when they were supposed to. Much like they did at Christmas, the twins talked to each other well into the night with excitement for what the morning would bring. The twins hadn't shared a bedroom since they were three but they didn't need to be in the same room to communicate. The bond between Chip and T'Mir, stronger than anything T'Pol was familiar with, allowed the twins to carry on entire conversations from, as it turned out, miles away.

Continuing his stealthy decent down the stairs, Trip walked through the den, to the kitchen and out the door to the solarium where he sensed T'Pol. Moving quietly through the personal desert Trip had created, he joined his wife on the patch of soft moss she was using and took his own deep breaths to join her in meditation.

Aware of his presence beside her, T'Pol extended her hand and touched her fingers to his, inviting him into her "happy place" as he called the plain of her mind's eye.

Through the bond they shared, one forged during the infancy of their relationship, T'Pol could sense her husband's thoughts, feel his moods, as he did hers. Over the years, Trip had developed enough control to shield his mind from her at will, though there was rarely a need save for the occassional birthday surprise.

The solarium had been one such surprise, one that took months to orchestrate and much effort to leave T'Pol none the wiser.

Though he'd done the brunt of the work himself, using the same materials for the windows that were in production for the Warp 7 vessels he and T'Pol helped design, he'd called in several favors for the project. The sand from the Florida coast had been provided by his brother Jim. Lieutenant Pamela Isley, a former _Enterprise_ crewmate, had guided the selection of Terran and Vulcan plant life. T'Pol's father, after some urging by T'Les, used his influence to gain clearance for the procurement of the Vulcan vegetation.

Construction had taken three days — which conveniently coincided with a lecture T'Pol had been asked to give at Starfleet Academy down in San Francisco — and several of their own crew from Rose Lake had helped.

Though T'Pol had known her husband was keeping something from her, she had not pressed and had been suitably surprised to return from her lecture to find that her mate had re-created, to the best of his ability, a small piece of her homeworld.

That had been one of only a handful of times he'd kept any time of secret from her.

But that morning, joined in meditation, there were no walls. No secrets. All that T'Pol thought, felt…all that she _was_…was laid bare before Trip and he was open to her in return.

Feeling no shame, T'Pol shared the the fear and uncertainty her dreams caused. She'd experienced eight such disturbing dreams over the past three months, each leaving her with a feeling that there was something she was missing; a clue she was overlooking to a puzzle she did not recognize.

Trip, in turn, felt and shared his own fear and concern for his wife. As much as he teased her himself, she was the most unflappable woman he knew and he didn't like the effect these nightmares had on her.

_The dream has passed, Husband_, T'Pol thought, trying to reassure him as much as herself. _And today is not a day to dwell on fear._

He agreed, giving her one more mental hug before returning to his own head. Opening his eyes slowly, he couldn't help but smile at the vision that was his wife.

"You're beautiful, T'Pol. Inside and out."

Knowing better than to admonish him for his preoccupation with aesthetics, T'Pol merely shared her own smile before pushing herself to her feet.

He took her hand in his as he stood, holding it as they walked back into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I guess Chip and T'Mir could arguably belong to me, but, since their parents don't, I won't quibble over details. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance; Action  
NOTE: It's been a while and I don't have much in the way of an excuse other than life is busy but the clan Tucker is always on my mind and I still hope to finish telling you their story one of these days.  
Chapter Three — Forty Pounds of Overgrown Rat

Charles Tucker IV followed the scent of cinnamon into the kitchen to find his parents putting the finishing touches on breakfast. His sister, T'Mir, was already seated at the table as she poured orange juice into four waiting glasses.

"Morning, sleepy head," his father greeted, flipping a pancake with dramatic flare. "We were just about to send the cavalry to wake you."

Chip bent to scratch the cavalry behind the ears, glad he'd woken up before Dad sent Spunky for him. As much as he and his sister loved their family pet, no one liked to wake up to forty pounds of overgrown hairless rat on their chest.

Spunky had been given to their parents when their friend Dr. Phlox had returned to Denobula. At the time, his parents had no idea the small caged rat was going to grow to be only slightly smaller than their neighbor's Retriever.

The curious stares during Spunky's evening walks didn't phase either twin and, really, they thought he was better than any ordinary dog their schoolmates had. Spunky played fetch, rolled over and did all manner of other mundane tricks those canine companions did with the added benefit of being able to climb trees and never shedding on the furniture and upsetting their mom.

Not that the twins' mom would ever get upset about something like a pet's fur on the sofa. In Chip's opinion, he had not only the coolest pet in town but also the coolest parents, especially his mom. She never raised her voice like Timmy McAvin's mom and never "shush"ed him like Mrs. Phillipps.

It didn't matter what he wanted to talk about or what he'd been up to. His mother always talked to him like he was a real person, not just a kid, and she always made time for both him and his sister.

Not that their father wasn't great, too. Trip Tucker could build anything — from the desert he gave Mom for her birthday to the tree house the neighborhood kids all envied. He yelled on occasion, but it was rarely at Chip or T'Mir and only sometimes at their mother — and Mom said that she wouldn't know what to do with Dad if he didn't raise his voice irrationally once in a while.

He knew that some of the other kids — and their parents — talked about how different his family was but Chip knew they were just special.

All in all, he figured he was a pretty lucky kid. He even liked his little sister more than his friends with siblings seemed to like theirs. Maybe it was because they were twins and could talk to each other in a way none of their friends could. Not even their cousins could communicate the way Chip and T'Mir did. Dad said it was a gift from their mom, the way they could use their minds to talk to each other. Dad said Mom had shared that gift with him, too, and they could talk about him and his sister without either of them knowing it.

Which was fair, Chip knew, because he and T'Mir could talk about their parents without them knowing it, either.

"Who wants flapjacks?" Dad asked, placing a big plate of fluffy cinnamon pancakes in the center of the table.

T'Mir, knowing her brother, had already placed three cakes on his plate by the time Chip washed his hands and took his seat. She took two for herself and some of the cut fruit her mother offered.

"We will leave in one hour," Mom announced as she passed the bowl of fruit to their father. "Do you need help packing?"

Both twins shook their heads. Chip and T'Mir had been been packed for a week in anticipation of the family holiday in Florida. It was Grandpa Tucker's birthday and the whole family was going camping in the Everglades to celebrate. And as if four days in the backcountry of Florida with their grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins wasn't more excitement than your average seven-year-old could take, today would be their first time traveling by Transporter.

The Tucker twins knew what a privilege it was to use the Transporter for a family vacation. It was only because of their parents' position as the heads of the at the Rose Lake Facility. Dad was sure that, eventually, Transporters would be a common mode of public transit, but for now it was rare they'd be utilized for non-Starfleet business, let alone non-Starfleet personnel.

"Since you're both so prepared, you can take care of the dishes while I help your mom finish packing," Dad said, a teasing grin on his face as he looked at Mom. "You know how she leaves everything to the last minute."

Chip knew their mother was the prepared one in the family, remembering to pack things the twins didn't think about until halfway through vacations, but she merely raised an eyebrow at Dad as she took a sip of her tea.

- * - * -

An hour later, dressed from head to toe in heavy cold-weather gear their mother insisted on, T'Mir and Chip led the way through the heavy blanket of snow that covered the entrance of Starfleet's Rose Lake Research and Development Facility.

Behind them, walking with Mom, their father carried Spunky. Even though the overgrown rat was also dressed for the snow in a thick sweater T'Pol had knitted under her mother-in-law's guidance, no one thought it worth the hassle to wrestle him into the matching booties for the short walk to and from the groundcar.

Shouldering her share of the luggage — her bag and Spunky's supplies — T'Mir reached the door first and swiped her keycard. Registering her low-level clearance, the door slid aside and the Tucker family marched through, snow falling from their boots onto the heavy mat.

When the door slid shut, Trip placed Spunky on the floor and the rat, as soon as his feet hit the floor, ran down the hall to a waiting Lieutenant Renee Montoya.

Spunky, like Chip and T'Mir, felt just as at home at Rose Lake as he did at their house a short distance away, having hung around the facility since Chip and T'Mir had been in diapers.

Lieutenant Montoya had volunteered to change those diapers, delighted that Commanders Tucker and T'Pol had established a day care program on the Rose Lake campus shortly after taking charge of the facility. She'd used the day care for her own children — and worked herself into the rotation to watch over the various tykes whose parents also took advantage of the child-friendly atmosphere.

Though there had been some naysayers to Commander T'Pol's proposal to establish the program, Renee found the Vulcan's reasons completely logical. From her own experience, she worried far less and was able to focus more on her work knowing that her children were well-tended and only a short distance away.

Admittedly, there hadn't been a lot of enthusiasm from the Rose Lake crew when they'd first learned a Vulcan was going to be one of their new commanders. Though most of the Vulcans they'd worked with in the past had been brilliant — and much further ahead in their understanding of warp theory — the aliens had not been interested in sharing that knowledge.

It took months of caution before the crew relaxed enough to realize T'Pol was genuinely interested in furthering the goals of the Human's continued voyages into space.

"Good morning, Commanders," the lieutenant greeted when the Tuckers had caught up with Spunky.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," T'Pol greeted. "Ready to hold down the fort while we're gone?"

"Been looking forward to it, sir."

Trip smiled. "Just try not to let the power go to your head."

"Of course not, Commander," Renee promised. "I'm just gonna have some fun with the newer recruits."

Commander Tucker smiled and shot a look at his wife. Though the primary function of the Rose Lake Facility was the development of the Warp 7 engine, the team of 30 engineers and scientists were often involved in improving other systems found on Starfleet's many space-faring vessels and outposts. Renee had recently led a project to utilize current waste management and filtration systems to supply nutrients and hydration to closed-system arboretums, which then provide recycled, breathable air.

"Such knowledge can only aid their understanding of the closed-system," T'Pol agreed. "And the tanks can only benefit from a thorough cleaning."

"My thoughts exactly."


End file.
